


Regret Comes Later

by Jazebeth (Barrattiel)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Cynical Kuroko, Friends to Lovers, Hanamiya being a bad influence, M/M, and everyone else around Kuroko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 13:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barrattiel/pseuds/Jazebeth
Summary: Kuroko has given up to change the GoM, they no longer need him so why bother? A certain Coach of Kirisaki Daiichi saw the chance and took him in, with the thought of making him bloom."We don't need talent to win, as you will soon learn, dear Tetsuya."Kuroko furrows his eyebrow. That doesn't make any sense."Why so?"Makoto chuckles, and Kuroko could hear Kazuya's exasperated groan somewhere to his right, a muttered"here we go again."was heard but unaddressed."A little cooperation is enough. You will see."Kuroko's slow descend to the land of the cynical was full of first-hand experience and Makoto's charismatic influence.Cross-posted on FFN with the same title, you can find ithere
Relationships: Hanamiya Makoto/Kuroko Tetsuya
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Transporting this story to this site so that I will find the motivation to continue it again.

_Come on, you can do it._

Kuroko fumbled with the hem of his sleeve as he stared at the resignation letter on his hand. Hesitating.

It wasn't the first time that he found himself standing in front of the door to his coach– _former_ coach Shirogane's office, contemplating on whether he would deliver the letter and sealing his fate of never playing a game with his friends or to crumple the paper and trying to endure the heartache he would definitely feel if he stayed.

On one hand, he didn't want to abandon the friends he had made throughout the time he had spent with them. No matter how cold they've been to each other – especially towards him – he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning them when they needed help, even if none of them wanted to admit it. He could see the frustration that was plainly written on their face every time he caught a glimpse of them in the school corridor, not even trying to greet him even if he stands in front of any of them, too consumed in their own thoughts to pay attention to someone as invisible as him.

On the other hand... he didn't want to keep hurting himself with false hope that one day they would realize their own mistake and make-up. Like they used to do every time one of them made a mistake.

But Kuroko knew that it was just a wishful thinking. And he kept denying the fact that they were drifting apart, further away from each other as time passes.

It hurt to think that these people was once someone he knew intimately, people whom he shared his deepest secrets and fears, people whom he had trusted with every fiber of his being.

Now they were hardly teammates, much less _friends._

That's what they are now, teammates. _Nothing more_. He tried to ignore the dull ache on his chest at the thought of his – former – friends.

Kuroko shook his head, not wanting to wallow himself with the thought of his teammates.

With one last glance towards the large mahogany door he knew would lead to his former coach's office, Kuroko turned around and headed towards his next class.

He knew he was postponing the inevitable, but there _has_ to be something he could do to salvage their friendship, right?

* * *

Kuroko had lost count on how many times he had seen them arguing, and more often than not, the shouting match would always end up with one of them trying to hit the other with their bare fist. It's not like he could stop them from fighting, given the amount of hostile confrontation that always happened when they decided to grace the school gym with their presence was always assured, it's just that _none_ of them would want to listen to Momoi, much less listen to him. And so, Kuroko learned that their best bet to stopping them from fighting was to let them go at it.

They were getting increasingly loud, and it had garnered enough attention to of the whole court to the point where his coach and several other first stringer to manhandle Aomine away from the fuming Kise.

Kuroko sighed. This was nothing new, coach Shirogane would only chew them out, making them sit as far away from each other for a couple of hours to cool off, before letting them continue practice.

Not that they would stick long enough.

Just a few minutes after Kuroko thought of that, he saw Kise walking towards the gym entrance with his bag slung over his shoulder, intention clear as he scowled openly to anyone who tried to keep him inside.

Their coach insisted on continuing their practice to refine their technique as the practice drags on.

Kuroko watched them play, his attention focused solely on Aomine as he grew increasingly aggressive with each dunks he made, slamming the ball through the net harder than necessary, rattling the board with massive force to the point where he almost rip the basket apart.

Judging by the tense silence the whole gym was in, it was safe to assume that not only the sight of _them_ fighting was normal; they were also wise enough to not mess with a pissed off Aomine. It was only a matter of time before their coach would try to reprimand Aomine with his harsh actions.

"Aomine!"

Kuroko knew this part as well, where their coach would suspend Aomine from practicing for a few days to cool off in a futile effort to keep their ace to come to practice. Not that he ever listened.

Sensing the inevitable, Kuroko decided that it was enough practice for him.

Not that he ever step one foot towards the court anymore, seeing as no one needed his skill now that the five of them could win the games effortlessly.

Still, he kept hoping that one day, one of them would ask him to join them, to return some semblance of normality they always have when they practice. Like they always did.

Kuroko silently hoped and prayed that one day, they would remember the sixth phantom player. They have to, they were friends, right?

* * *

It was after another match with another school that Kuroko found himself in front of the familiar mahogany door, clutching the resignation letter in one had as he tried to rethink his decision over and over again. Their school had managed to win the match in landslide, not even giving the opponent any chance to score another goal after one lucky three pointer shoot from them.

They would say it was a lucky shot. But to him, it looked like the Generation of Miracles merely let them have that one shot only. It wasn't beyond them to taunt their opponent nowadays, and Kuroko regretfully mourn over the fact that his _friends_ had changed so much to the point where he could no longer see the same person they used to be, and from the depths of their heart the foreign entity that blossomed with their talent has replaced those innocent teenager he once knew.

Their opponent were completely decimated. Effortlessly. What made it worse was that they treated as a mere _game_ , not the kind where people would respect you for playing fair, but the kind of game where people were afraid to take another step in fear of angering the sleeping lion.

Kuroko watched from the side-line as their coach congratulated Akashi on another well planned game.

He snorted. It was anything _but_ planned. If the man saw the one sided, individual play-style they've been favouring for the last few months and called it a _'well planned'_ game, Kuroko wondered how he ended up as a coach for a sport where it heavily relies on _teamwork_.

With the result of the match fresh in his mind, Kuroko took a deep breath and knocked on the door, twice, respectfully.

Kuroko heard the man giving him permission to go in, and with one last lingering thoughts on his decision, opened the door.

As soon as he saw the polite questioning gaze on coach Shirogane's face, Kuroko was hit with a wave of anxiety, and Kuroko struggled to breathe slowly; trying to calm his racing heart as he placed the letter on top of the desk.

This was it, he would no longer see any of them in daily basis.

"I would like to resign, Coach." The moment those dreaded words left his lips, he glanced up to observe his _former_ coach's face.

There was confusion; that much was obvious to the way he eyed Kuroko, but there was also a foreign emotion that seized the elder's face as he stared at the letter to Kuroko, and back towards the letter.

"Kuroko Tetsuya?"

Kuroko gulped, then nodded. "Yes." There was no going back now, no time for second thoughts. He will _not_ regret this.

"I see."

...

It was only later that Kuroko was able to identify that foreign emotion swirling beneath the surface of confusion; Shirogane did not recognize him. Even though he spent the better half of the two years among the rank of Generation of Miracles.

Kuroko didn't know what hurt him more, his own Coach who has no recognition of him, or the fact that none of his friends realized his absence from the daily practice.

* * *

It was when the first term ended that Kuroko decided that Teikou was too much for him. There was too much pressure from the school; the way they kept insisting the students has to become number _one_ in anything did not help at all. There was too much to study with so little time, even though he resigned from Basketball Club, he still struggled with maintaining a minimal average score of nineties out of one hundred in all of his essays and exams.

Kuroko was not as gifted as his classmates were, he has no extraordinary memory, no genius-level IQ, and obviously, no private courses to help him survive another term to keep up with Teikou's unbelievable standard. And that was to _win_ , to be number one in everything, to be the best– and yet here he was, pathetically whimpering as the pain on his head increased from the built-up stress.

It was no wonder that he fell sick just a few days later.

Kuroko stared at the familiar ceiling of his bedroom; white and blank, just like his mind. There was no speck of dirt that he could see, nothing to keep his mind off of the stress he was suffering. And the dim light illuminating his room did not help from keeping his mind from the fact that his house was too quiet. Normally, he wouldn't mind the quiet house as he kept himself occupied with studies, but now, with his mind hazy with fever and a dull pounding headache, he couldn't help but feel _lonely_. Sure, his parents were busy, as they had their own responsibility on trying to keep their business afloat, but there was a treacherous part of his mind that kept whispering to him; trying to wrap their thorny vine on his body as a bubble of resentfulness clouded his judgement.

They were his parents, surely, they didn't forget him too?

Kuroko shook the remnants of the dark thoughts out of his mind, trying – and failing – to focus on anything other than the fact that _everyone_ he knew had left him alone, involuntarily, as if he was a mere phantom. Existing only when they acknowledge him.

It was ironic, in a way, that his _talent_ has manifested so much to the point even his own parents seemed to forget him. At another time, he would be proud, and he would tell Akashi how much his _talent_ had helped him.

Akashi was always the one who encourage him–

_Stop that._

Kuroko ignored the whispers in his mind as he focused on the dull pounding in his head, anything to keep the thought away from his acquaintance in school. Nothing good ever come from thinking about them, and Kuroko begrudgingly acknowledge the pain in his chest– as resentment. Another reminder to the misery he was experiencing.

Sighing, he tried to search his phone, patting the space beneath his pillows then beside it as he tried to reach the rectangular device.

When he found it, Kuroko fumbled with the security code that allows him to unlock his phone.

_11:43 pm._

With a frustrated groan Kuroko squinted as the brightness from the screen attacked his sensitive eyes. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, trying to look at his notification bar to see if someone – _anyone –_ had texted him.

There was none. Nothing from his parents, no messages from his classmates, and to his disdain, no one from the first string had texted him.

Kuroko wanted to scold himself from holding onto a small sliver of hope that one of them – anyone – would notice his absence from the school. Yet none of them even gave him the time of the day. He had thought that he would get used to it, eventually; being forgotten, that is. But it was harder to accept the harsh truth when he still clung onto the small thread of hope that they cared for him. Like he did for them.

Then again, it might be just a wishful thinking on his part, there was nothing he could go back to in Teikou. He had no one, and everyone he knew was from the basketball team.

If they forgot his existence when he was there, he could only imagine what it would be now that he _wasn't_ there.

Suddenly, in a moment of epiphany, Kuroko was struck with a thought. One that he would never thought of had he had been in the right state of mind.

_I could always start over... right?_

It wasn't too late to transfer as it was still August. He could still go to another school and spend the rest of the Middle School term to start over, right?

_Right?_

It wouldn't be too bad, no one there would know him, no one there would treat him like he was just a mere phantom.

He wouldn't be alone, and he wouldn't be lonely.

Sickness momentarily forgotten, Kuroko began making plans of his sudden transferring idea. He knew his parents wouldn't mind, as long as it has the same standard as Teikou, and he would grab at any chance he could to escape the clutches of painful memories he made in Teikou.

_Somewhere with the same standard as Teikou, but less stressful._

Opening the web browser from his phone, Kuroko began to do research until he found the first suitable choice that will fit into his criteria.

_Welcome to Kirisaki Daiichi, where the elites were nurtured._

Kuroko tapped his screen, giddy with excitement as he revelled on the school board homepage, greedily drinking the available information as he turned over the possibility of attending his choice of school. It seemed like it was the best place to start over, after all.

...

But... what if this was a mistake? What if he made a mistake? He couldn't possibly had given up any hope in Teikou just because he had a fallout with their core member, right? It felt wrong, just abandoning them like that, when they obviously need support and Kuroko began to feel guilty that he didn't mention resigning from the club to any of them. Sure, they're not in the best of terms right now–– _hah, that's putting it lightly, they're practically hostile outside of matches!_ Kuroko snorted with an unrestrained amount of bitterness – but he was still in contact with Momoi, albeit it was a little strained now she had to look after Aomine.

He could've at least told her that he was resigning, but he didn't. Was he afraid that by confining his fears to Momoi she would, in turn, tell them? Maybe, but he doubted they'd care... Not with the way they kept ignoring him, or the might've just not _notice_ him–

Oh, who was he kidding? He's trying to excuse their behaviour! He's in denial, and it was because he cared too much about them even though they did not return the favour.

Somehow, that realization hurt more than the feeling he felt when they abandoned him.

He must've spend a fair amount of time mulling over the new school – and some unpleasant Teikou problems – that Kuroko forgot that he hadn't eaten anything at all, if his rumbling stomach was any indication. Sighing, Kuroko pulled the blanket off of his leg, disentangling it from his bare feet and carelessly tossed it on the other side of his bed. Making no particular move to tidy up the mess it made as soon as it slid down to the floor. He was by no means lazy, he just... didn't want to spend anymore of his depleted energy to worry about the mess in his room.

And so, with a barely audible grunt, Kuroko slowly slid out of his comfortable bed mournfully as he slowly made his way towards the door with careful steps. His legs wobbled after each step, and Kuroko couldn't help but think that this situation was familiar, somewhat. The sore muscles, the dull headache that made it harder to see where he was going, not to mention the amount of sweat he was producing by the mere task of just walking. It had been a while since he felt _this_ weak, the first one had been after his first official acceptance into the first string. He might've overexerted his body because he was too excited to train.

Needless to say, his muscles were so sore he couldn't move any of his limbs.

Speaking of training, he might as well continue with the light exercise to keep his body fit. Who knows, maybe Kirisaki Daiichi have some decent sports related club he could join?

He ignored the treacherous part of his mind that was trying to tell him that he just wanted to replace _them_ out of his mind.

...

Surprisingly, it was quite easy to get permission to transfer from his parents. All Kuroko had to do was truthfully confess that all the pressure from the school was starting to get into him, stressing him out, and because of that, his health was starting to deteriorate. It was a simple, white lie. He knew that mentioning his other reasons to transfer was out of the question, not when he had first hand experience of what their reaction would be; and it was to tell him to man up and take care of his own business.

Kuroko tried to suppress the guilt from surfacing, if they love him, they'd understand.

In just a few days, he had finished filling his forms for both schools, and in less than a week, he would be a student of Kirisaki Daiichi.

There was no turning back now. Whatever he regrets leaving in Teikou, whatever memory he had of that place, was thoroughly shoved to the back of his mind as the thought of settling into a new environment took place to the forefront of his mind; stopping his wayward emotional state to a sudden halt, only to be replaced with bouts of nervousness.

The giddy excitement he felt a week ago had evaporated as he remembered the crucial part of being a new student; trying to fit in. Will they notice him? Will they accept him? That was all he could think of as he waited for his new uniform to arrive. His worry was reasonable, he knew, because after being invisible for a few years, it would take time to get used to getting attention. _If_ they would give him any, that is.

But Kuroko knew he _wanted_ to be something more than a mere phantom who constantly shadows the brightest player in the team, he wanted to obtain the recognition he deserves. As an equal. Maybe then someone will pay him an undivided attention at the duration of the school year. He wasn't sure if this was the path he wanted to lead, but he was sure of one thing:

_I don't want to be invisible anymore._


	2. Chapter 2

"Huh, I wonder where they got the measurement from." Kuroko muttered as he observed his reflection on his full-length mirror. He was wearing the standard Kirisaki Daiichi uniform, grey pants held by a black leather belt, white long sleeved shirt that was neatly tucked into his pants, a black and maroon stripped tie tied into a double knot – he seem to be the only one his age who prefer to tie his tie like this, somehow the single knot bothered him. Maybe because the single made the knot seem uneven –, and a black blazer. The uniform had fit him snugly – form-fitting – but not too much to the point where he could hardly make any movement. It was odd, how the uniform fit him so perfectly. He had to admit that he look rather good on it, even the clash of colours – black, grey, white, and maroon – only enhanced his appearance even more.

If his unnatural sky-blue hair didn't gain any attention – which, ironically didn't –, the clash of colours would most certainly did. But then again, no matter how much it would made him stand out, no one seemed to pay him attention unless he announced it.

Funny how that works. Maybe the students on Teikou was so used to the colourful hair, especially the Generation of Miracles who seem to have their own color scheme, that his was pale in comparison?

Hey, now that he thought about it, maybe he should've called them Generation of Rainbow?

Kuroko mentally slapped his forehead. Unable to believe he was thinking such a useless thing.

His good mood was soured a bit, and he didn't have to deny the source of it. He knew it as what it was, the bitterness he felt towards them was there, he knew, but it was starting to get better now that the prospect of meeting them was getting slimmer with his transfer to the new school. It was odd that everything he did, or see – or _think –_ , would remind him of them. And with that, the cold bite of bitterness would soon follow him. He still couldn't believe they had such an impact to his life that the mere thoughts of _colours_ , of all things, would make him melancholy. His life was so centered around them to the point where it physically _hurts_ him when his traitorous mind projected the images of his former teammates. Or things that was associated with them.

Man, how pathetic did that sound?

Kuroko stared at his reflection, at the new uniform he adorned, and nodded.

There was no need to think about them, no need to give them the satisfaction on making him this vulnerable when he hardly made any impression on them.

It was time to move on with his life without them plaguing his mind. He now had the chance to make himself _matter_ , to make the others see his worth for what it was and not for what it was shaped. And for that, he would shed the image he involuntarily shaped for himself.

He would change.

No.

He _will_ change.

And it will start with his new school.

Kuroko shook his head in an attempt to banish his previous thoughts and concentrated on the image reflecting back at him from the mirror.

His new Kirisaki Daiichi uniform had arrived this afternoon when he was busy preparing his own lunch when the mailman came, carrying a medium sized box filled with his uniform – two woolen grey sweater with teal trimmed sleeve, two black blazers, two pair of grey pants, black and maroon stripped ties, and his jersey. Seriously, how much uniform does he need? – and a few brochures with a map of each building. Honestly, it felt like the principal was trying to impress him as if he was a freshman.

Well, technically, he was _new_ , but he obviously doesn't need the list of achievement and numbers of successful individual printed on his letter, does he?

Kuroko turned sideways, nodding his head in appreciation as he inspected the way his uniform hugged his form snugly.

"Well, at least it's my size." Kuroko shrugged the black blazer off of his shoulder, and slipped the sweater on.

Kuroko smiled in contentment, feeling his body encased with warmth with the smooth – and incredibly soft – fabric. Even the sweater fit him perfectly! He was starting to have many unpleasant thoughts about _how_ his uniform seemed to fit him. Either the seamstress was _incredibly_ talented or he had a stalker copying down his measurement and sent it to his new school.

Kuroko shuddered, he hoped it wasn't the latter.

Then again, this was a school for the elites, right? So the talented seamstress was probably the case.

It was just that had had terrible luck with anything concerning his outfit size that it terrifies him when something _fit_ him.

Kuroko chuckled when remembered all the shirts his mother bought him that would be too big or too small. Somehow, his mother had the inability to buy something his size, and it still amused him that she could not find anything that would fit him. He remembered the last Christmas where she bought him new track shoes, it had been a size too small, and he was disappointed on not be able to wear it for his morning jogs.

He stared at his reflection once again. Maybe he'll try a different look when the time comes.

Kuroko smiled. "I'm ready."

* * *

Unlike any normal student, Hanamiya Makoto had a lot more responsibility than any student in his school.

He was the captain as well as the coach of their basketball club, he was the treasurer on student council – it wasn't his fault that none of them was eager to take the position. But someone needed to manage the budget. And the money ain't gonna count themselves –, and more importantly; he was the class president of his classroom.

He had kept an eye on everyone in his class and their well being. Meaning, he knew them like the back of his hand. Given the amount of time he needed to check on them was as frequent as the amount of time he spent on the gym.

It exhaust him sometimes, with the number of responsibility he held on his shoulder at the mere age of fifteen, sometimes he wondered why he hadn't collapsed from the pressure of it all. He supposed it was some sort of training for him, as his headmaster had kindly informed him, given that he would have take over his parent's business sometimes in the future.

It was also why, when the headmaster called him, he wasn't surprised to be handled a paper filled with information about certain boy with sky-blue eyes and hair with the name Kuroko Tetsuya. Somehow, the name ring a bell on his mind, but he was uncertain on why it seemed significant that he had heard the name before.

"And why would you give me this?" He didn't care if the tone sounds disrespectful, but it wasn't everyday a student was given a profile of some stranger, right?

"Makoto-kun," Hanamiya inwardly cringed at the nickname. He _hated_ it when they tried to be friendly with him. "Kuroko-kun has transferred to our school, and I want you to escort him around the school and get him to be familiar with the lay-out."

Hanamiya's face was a blank canvas as he processed the information. The headmaster wanted _him_ to escort some new student? Didn't the man put enough responsibility on his shoulder all ready? And now he wanted _him_ to be some kind of escort to this boy?

"Why me? You have countless of prefect and staff to do that."

"Ah, he's in your class now, and as the class president; it's your duty to take care of your classmate." His headmaster had a nerve to flash him a confident smile. The one he was familiar with when he knew the old man had something up on his sleeve.

Normally, Hanamiya won't call him out of it, but he was tired of this game. And he had no patience to beat around the bush. "That's not all, was it?"

The headmaster let out a booming laugh. "Sharp as always, Makoto-kun." Hanamiya frowned as the man's laugh gradually diminish into a hearty chuckle. "It's just that I didn't expect anyone to transfer at this time of the year, much less from Teikou."

And with that, a look of understanding flashed on Hanamiya's golden eyes. Kirisaki Daiichi and Teikou has been rivals for years, trying to compete with each other on every field imaginable to the point where the two school representative couldn't be in the same room with each other lest they want tense back-handed praises and veiled backstabbing.

It was no wonder that this boy – Kuroko Tetsuya, his mind supplied – sudden transference piqued the Headmaster's interest. Hanamiya knew without asking that the man wanted him to figure out the reason behind Kuroko's transfer in hope of getting some dirt to the elusive school.

Hanamiya sighed deeply. He hated this, he hated the hostility behind it. The rivalry that he doesn't care about was always encouraged whenever there's competitive challenge with Teikou, and it was such an idiotic notion that he never bothered to arrange any basketball practice matches with said school – he _was_ the coach, after all –.

" _Fine._ But I'm not doing this for _you._ I'm doing this because he's going to be my classmate."

Hanamiya pretended he didn't see the knowing twinkle on the aged man's eyes.

* * *

The next day, Hanamiya arrived a bit earlier than he usually does. Of course, this was because he was 'on duty' to escort the new kid.

He was starting to dislike this already.

Knowing it was better to get it over with, Hanamiya pulled out the schedule for his class so he could give it to Kuroko when he came.

Hanamiya was briefly skimming through his notes when he noticed footsteps approaching him, he looked up and raised his eyebrow as Kuroko quietly made his way towards him.

"I was told that someone called Hanamiya Makoto-san," Hanamiya's eyebrow twitched. He hated suffixes. "is going to be my escort to my class."

Hanamiya nodded, standing up so he could properly scrutinize the new student from a better angle – he was a good few inches taller than him – and offered a handshake. "Hanamiya Makoto," He said curtly, waiting for Kuroko to take his hand. "I'm supposed to show you around the entire school, but I have a club to run after school today. So, this might take a few days."

Kuroko's lips twitched slightly, the ghost of a smile appearing on his carefully blank expression, and Hanamiya couldn't help but notice the way those blue eyes seemed to sparkle with delight.

Huh, weird kid.

Hanamiya handed him a sheet of paper with Kuroko's schedule written on them – courtesy of the Headmaster – and began walking to the direction of their class, beckoning Kuroko to follow him with a jerk of his head. "The first floor are generally filled with the staff and teacher's office..."

Hanamiya continued explaining the general layout of the school, pointing out several key direction as they went to their classroom, such as; cafeteria, library, auditorium, gym and sports related clubs to Kuroko who was listening to him with rapt attention, sometimes asking questions when something caught his eyes – he seemed to do that a lot, when he noticed Kuroko had stopped following him and was making his way towards the library after he told Kuroko what kind of books was in their collection; Hanamiya had to drag him out by his wrist when Kuroko didn't notice him calling his name. Something told Hanamiya that Kuroko would be a handful in the following days and he dreaded they day it would come. –, or making comments here and there to let him know that Kuroko was still following him.

By now, most of the students has arrived on the school, some girls kept giggling when they passed them. Hanamiya wanted to rub his forehead in frustration, not an hour had passed and Kuroko had gained attention because of his looks. At least, that's what he gathered by the amount of hushed giggling and whispers about how 'cute' the guy was.

Hanamiya couldn't blame them, though. With his spiked baby-blue hair that framed his face, it only brought the attention to his bright blue almond-shaped eyes, and honestly, he never saw such vivid blue eyes on anyone before. He would be lying if he wasn't captivated with those intense blue eyes.

The bell rang, and Hanamiya silently sighed in relief. "This is our class for the rest of the year," He said, gesturing to the classroom on their right. _3 – B._ "Wait here until the homeroom teacher introduced you, okay?"

Kuroko nodded with a small smile.

* * *

So far, Kuroko was enjoying his new school. The guy who was showing him around the school seemed decent enough and was very informative, then his new classmates were very eager to know him as well and was showering him with attention. Something that never happened in Teikou.

Maybe it had to do with his status as a newbie, and people are generally curious about 'new' things, or people. He was sure that, within a few weeks, their curiosity will be sated and they won't be clamoring around him like a moth to flame.

But for now, he'd have to get used to it, though. Kuroko already received few invitation to join them on their lunch tables, but he politely refused them, saying that he'll probably join them another day. They were disappointed at first, before brightening up when he told them that he will definitely hang out with them.

It was strange for him to receive this much attention, when back in Teikou no one spared him a glance, most of the time they won't even notice he was in the same room with them until he announced it; the line "Excuse me, but I'm right here." might as well be his catchphrase.

In this school, however, no matter where he went, people kept glancing at him as he walked beside Hanamiya who was escorting him towards the cafeteria, once again explaining the basic gist of his new school.

"If you want to, you can sit with my friends and I. They're a bit loud, but they're a good company." Hanamiya was talking about his friends from his club, basketball club, to be precise.

"It's okay, I don't mind."

They arrived in front of a large white double door, and soon, Kuroko marveled on how big the building was. The cafeteria alone could've fit an entire army!

Kuroko followed Hanamiya as he briskly weaved through the crowd into the center of the cafeteria, where large tables – that could hold up to eight people, judging from the length of the rectangular table – were placed. They approached a rather loud group of people who were loudly arguing about basketball, and Kuroko instantly knew that this was the 'company' that he would spend the next lunch hour on.

"You have to admit that arch was _beautiful_!"

"But it was too high! There's no way anyone could intercept it!"

"I think that was the point."

"... Did you just make a pun."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Hanamiya rolling his eyes before pulling out a chair and sat down unceremoniously, patting the seat on his right for Kuroko to sit on.

"And who is this?" The question came out of a guy with lavender hair, his bangs was long enough that it covered his eyes – and Kuroko thought _his_ hair was weird –. His head bobbed in confirmation when Kuroko pointed to himself with amusement.

Man, it's going to take some time to adjust with the amount of attention he's getting every time he met someone new.

"Hello, my name is Kuroko Tetsuya. Pleased to meet you," Kuroko bowed slightly at each of them with a small, pleasant smile.

"Wow, where did you catch this guy, Coach? He's so polite..."

"Unlike _some_ people, Kuroko here has his manners." Hanamiya smirked when the guy with wild, short reddish brown hair pouted.

The others began introducing themselves to Kuroko, they all insisted to be called with their first names ("And without suffixes, please. I'm never going to get used to it." Hiroshi – the guy who asked Hanamiya where he caught Kuroko – said.), and Kuroko soon began taking a liking to them. The way they were talking was so unrestrained, they had no problem with his deadpan replies, Kazuya – the one with lavender hair – even told Kuroko that it was refreshing that someone wasn't taking _shit_ – his exact word – with their rambunctious behaviour.

Hanamiya excused himself to get their food, he had asked Kuroko what he wanted earlier, which Kuroko replied with a couple of sandwiches and a medium-sized cup of vanilla milkshake. The others soon echoed their own choice of food – with the majority of them choosing to eat variety of junk foods, from burgers, hot dogs, bucket of nuggets, _lots_ of fries, chicken legs, and bacon strips. Kuroko didn't even know that the school cafeteria even had those on the menu. Where the hell had he been? This place was heaven! –, with Hiroshi and Kojiro offering to help him carry the other trays. Leaving Kazuya, Kuroko, Kentaro, and Itsuki on their table to talk.

More like they kept asking questions with Kuroko trying his best to answer their questions.

"I'm used to it. In my old school, I had friends who were as loud as you," He was obviously talking about the Generation of Miracles, back when their friendship was strong.

"Oh yea, what was your old school like?" Kazuya asked with excitement.

Kuroko considered his answer, should he tell the truth or make up something believable? Kuroko choose to play it safe by skirting around the subject.

"It was fun for some time, before they dump us with a lot of materials to study."

Kazuya snickered at his tone. The guy surely likes it when he said something in his please-just-kill-me and I-can't-take-it-anymore tone.

"Oh yeah, definitely. They do it here, too. One time, Kojiro-" Itsuki jerked his head towards the growing line of students eager on getting their food. "-passed out in the middle of class to avoid an exam he forgot to study about."

Kuroko's eyes widened and he grinned in amusement. "Why would he do that?"

Kentaro nodded. "Yeah, he's a good actor, I'll give you that."

"To avoid taking the exam, duh. It's better than taking the remedial class where your score wouldn't matter, even if it exceeds the passing grade, you'll only get passing grade. That's how it is here."

Kuroko nodded his head numbly, that... that was actually a smart move. Sly, yes, but there was no rule against faking sickness. It would only irritate the school nurse at most. And if you're found out... well, just make sure you're never found out. "That's actually clever." He never thought that the serious, cool Kojiro would pull a stunt like that.

But then again, he only met the guy for ten minutes, it's not enough time to gauge his personality.

Somehow, his reply was met with amused smirk between the three of them.

They continued trading stories on their rather unfortunate exam moments before Hanamiya, Kojiro, and Hiroshi came back with mountains of food and drinks on the tray.

"And hear this," Kazuya leaned forward and cupped his hands around his mouth in an attempt to prevent the others to hear what he was about to say to Kuroko as if it was some kind of government secret. "he's your resident genius with IQ above a hundred and sixty. If there's any subject you don't understand, ask for his help."

"What are you whispering about?" They jumped in their seats as Hanamiya placed his tray on the table and began dividing their food.

Kuroko stared with wide eye at the amount of food Hanamiya, Kentaro, Itsuki, and Hiroshi were piling on their plate, it was thrice the amount of food he ate every meal! They began to dig in once everyone was seated.

"Nofhin'." Kazuya said, the hot dog he was currently chewing noisily muffled the rest of his words into incoherent mumbles.

"Kazuya, don't talk with food in your mouth." Hanamiya chastised with a frown, holding his own burger with one hand and throwing the wrapper to Kazuya who deftly ducked.

Kuroko watched as Kazuya nodded once, chewed his food, before swallowing it. "Yes, mother." He could hear Kazuya rolling his eyes on that sentence alone.

They continued with a small talk, about random things ("I don't think alien would survive on our atmosphere, for all we know, they could've came from some planet in freaking Andromeda!"), while the more mischievous of the group began to throw their balled food wrapper against each other – Kazuya and Hiroshi were rather competitive, Hanamiya surprisingly joined in after being hit with one paper-ball on his temple – in a childish mock-war.

Kuroko rather enjoyed his first day on his new school, the few new friends he made seemed interesting. He had yet to tell them his hobbies and former affiliation, but that was okay, they didn't push the subject when they saw how uncomfortable he felt when they kept playing twenty questions.

Maybe, it was the glare Hanamiya sent them that made them shut their mouth.

Kuroko sent him a grateful smile when they went back arguing among themselves.

They finished lunch five minutes before the bell rang, and split up to go on their own classes.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Kuroko glanced at Hanamiya who pulled his sleek, black mobile phone and tapped into the screen for a moment before offering it to Kuroko with the dial app already opened. "Put your number there so I can check up on you."

Kuroko stared at him for second before shrugging. After entering his phone number and some basic info – and picking his own ringtone for the heck of it – Kuroko returned his phone with a questioning gaze. "Is this normal?"

"Totally."

**Author's Note:**

> The bitter Kuroko I've always wanted to write is here, folks.


End file.
